


Chasing Regret Through Sand and Stars

by whimsicalwhims



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-03
Updated: 2007-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:04:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalwhims/pseuds/whimsicalwhims
Summary: When Daniel, Vala, and Cameron decide to take up piracy, Jack is charged with the mission to find them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Timeline/Spoilers:** Future fic; vague mentions of _The Shroud_ and S4 SGA casting information.  
>  **Archive Rights:** No. Please do not take this story and post it elsewhere.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own SG-1 or any of the characters and situations depicted on the show. No profit is being made from this and no infringement is intended.  
>  **A/N:** Written for _spacepirate_fic_ challenge (claim: _Jack/Daniel_ ) and for _10_cliche_fics_ (prompt: _Every rose has its thorn_ ). Thanks to starting_gate for the beta; any remaining mistakes are my own.

“ _Space pirates?_ ” Jack’s getting too old to put up with Daniel’s crap. “Please tell me this is some kind of joke.”

“No joke, sir,” Davis says, placing a file folder on Jack’s desk. “From what we’ve been able to ascertain, Dr. Jackson wasn’t too happy when you told him that Stargate Command wouldn’t be going after the Lucian Alliance.”

Daniel’s never been able to take no for an answer.

“It seems that Dr. Jackson, Ms. Mal Doran, and Colonel Mitchell stole an Al’kesh from Area 51 and took off to rectify matters.”

“Of course they did,” Jack says as he studies the grainy surveillance photos Major Davis has provided, the proof spelt out in black and white. Daniel’s looking straight at the camera in one, giving a half-smile that shows he understands the magnitude of his actions.

“Sir, the Al’kesh had just been outfitted with offensive weapons; it’s too valuable a resource to lose. The president wants immediate action taken, and he has requested that you head up the mission to capture them.” Davis doesn’t meet Jack’s eyes; he’s worked closely with the people at the SGC, and he understands what this will cost Jack. 

Jack pushes the photos aside and pulls out the star charts pinpointing the last known location they have for the ship: P89-586, a planet with early nineteenth century technology and a working stargate. Daniel and his cohorts won’t be there too long--Jack knows they’ll feel too uneasy about being within the SGC’s reach--but they’ll need to stock up on supplies and remove their tracking devices, if they haven’t done so already. Thankfully Carter’s off in Atlantis--otherwise, she would have likely rigged up some super-secret cloaking device, and Jack knows he wouldn’t have had a snowball’s chance in hell of capturing the Al’kesh. 

So it’s up to Jack then, because while he theoretically could dial up the gate and ask Teal’c to abandon his work with the Jaffa Nation in order to keep Jack company while he hunts down their rogue friends, Jack can already picture Teal’c’s response: the sardonic lift of an eyebrow, followed by a firm refusal. Jack only wishes that he had the luxury of declining, too.

***

_The Odyssey_ is in the middle of a series of upgrades and won’t be ready to travel for at least another twelve hours. But Jack doubts they have even two hours before Daniel and company pull a Houdini, so a few phone calls later, he gives the order for two SG teams to be ready and has _The Odyssey_ beam him to the mountain.

“How did this happen, Jack?” Landry asks.

Jack has to bite back his sarcastic reply: You’re the one who was in charge of them; you tell me. But there are very few people to whom Daniel has ever seriously listened, and Hank Landry was never fully inducted into Daniel‘s circle of trust. Carter, Teal’c, and Jack himself had worked hard over the years to prevent some of Daniel’s more asinine plans--and even then, they weren’t always successful--and Jack shudders to think about what else could happen now that Daniel’s only remaining stabilizing influences are Vala and Mitchell. The repercussions boggle his mind.

He gives Landry a noncommittal “Who knows?” and heads to the gate room where the teams are waiting for him. They are heavily armed and wearing eager expressions, Jack notes with a critical eye. If they have any doubts about their upcoming mission, they give no visible indications. These are not the men Jack would have chosen for this, but he suspects Landry knows that, too. 

“Let’s move out, kids,” Jack says as Walter announces that the seventh chevron is locked. 

They step through the gate, and Jack is simultaneously relieved and irritated to find that the planet doesn’t appeared to have changed from the time when SG-1 first stepped foot here almost a decade ago. The stargate is still framed between two towering trees, and Jack remembers pushing Daniel against the one on the left--

 

Jack didn’t know how much longer he could put up with Daniel’s lack of self-preservation. “Has too much gate travel lowered your IQ or something?” Jack put his hands on Daniel’s shoulders, boxing him in between Jack and the tree. “Because walking towards a man pointing a rifle at you--” Jack broke off, too angry to finish. 

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said, even though they both knew it was a lie. “I won’t do it again.”

Daniel had a defiant look in his eyes as he stared back at Jack, and Jack felt his own breathing start to quicken. Daniel’s lips were slightly parted, and if Jack only leaned in a little more--but then Jack heard the sound of the gate activating and he turned--

 

“Sir?” Major Williams’ voice calls Jack back to the present. “Where would you like us to begin our search?”

In hell for starters, Jack thinks, but instead points straight ahead. “The town’s about a mile from here.” 

They move quickly across the hilly terrain, pausing only for the occasional surveillance. Captain Diaz wants to take soil samples--Jack can see it in the way he touches the ground and rubs the dirt between his fingers--but this is not that type of a mission, and they’re here to make a discovery of a different sort. But, as Jack ruefully--secretly--admits to himself, it seems to be his lot in life to be forever plagued by scientists. Though at least Diaz is military enough to follow the mission plan.

Their arrival in the town is unremarkable; the previous welcome wagon appears to have been replaced by a boy who comes barreling towards them on a bicycle, leaving Jack barely enough time to jump out of the way. The boy yells “Sorry, sir!” as he continues down the street, but doesn’t look back. Jack watches the boy for another moment, remembering how Daniel had painstakingly sketched design after design for a group of fascinated onlookers who had never before conceived of using the wheel in that capacity. The town’s people had been incredibly willing to provide information about recent Goa’uld activity after Daniel’s presentation. 

Jack and the teams continue on, and are met only with the occasional questioning glance by the natives they encounter in the streets. Strangers to this world must be a common occurrence now. The city seems safe enough on the surface, so Jack splits the group into three, assigning Diaz and Williams to his own group, and gives instructions for everyone to meet back up in twenty.

There’s a small bar around the corner, the same one where the bartender had proposed to an embarrassed Carter, and that Jack now hopes will be a valuable source of information for them. Alcohol always loosens tongues, regardless of the culture. 

There’s a woman behind the counter now; Drella, she says, the owner of this here joint. Jack asks her if she’s seen any other strangers recently, if anyone matching Daniel, Vala, and Mitchell’s descriptions have come through. She says no, but the way her eyes flicker as she speaks tells Jack she’s lying. He smiles to himself; Daniel has always had a way of appealing to the locals.

“Wait!” Drella calls as they turn to leave. “Don’t know if it’ll be much use to you, but a ship crashed here yesterday, on the other side of town. Pilot’s dead and all, but maybe it’ll help you find your missing friends.”

And maybe this is Daniel’s idea of a decoy, but Jack thanks her anyway. 

“This could very well be a trap, sir,” Williams says as Jack radios the others about their plans to check out the site.

Jack has to close his eyes, count to ten, and remind himself that generals should not tell their subordinates “Duh.” He tries to remind himself that Williams is just doing his job, but after years spent with a team that could practically anticipate Jack’s every move, Williams’ comments sound idiotic in comparison.

But Diaz is nodding. “Probably, but right now it’s the only lead we’ve got.” 

The kid gets it, and Jack thinks that if he manages not to succumb to gate teams’ not-so-stellar survival rate, then he’ll likely go far at the SGC. Of course, that’s assuming that Jack doesn’t shoot both Diaz and Williams for dawdling. “Shake a leg, kids,” Jack says, not bothering to disguise his irritation as they finally start moving. 

The ship has to be one of the Lucian Alliance’s, Jack thinks when they reach the wreckage. It’s an Al’kesh, shot down--possibly by the stolen Al’kesh--from the looks of it. And Jack doesn’t have to be Teal’c to realize that the empty cargo bay and the footprints around the ship mean that someone else has already been here. He refuses to even consider the alternative, that this could be the same ship that Daniel was aboard, because he doubts that anyone could have walked away from this wreck. 

Still, Jack can’t help but feel a surge of relief when he hears a zat gun taking out Williams and Diaz and slowly turns to see Daniel pointing a zat straight at him. “I like the pants,” Jack says with a nod at the hip-hugging leather ensemble Daniel’s now wearing. “It’s a good look for you.”

“Drop your weapon and put your hands in the air.” Daniel doesn’t take his eyes off of Jack for even a fraction of a second as he waits for Jack to comply. Jack trained him well.

Jack tosses his own zat towards Daniel, careful to keep his movements slow and steady. He has two guns and a knife hidden on his person, and he knows that Daniel knows about those as well, but apparently they’re not an immediate concern, because Daniel doesn’t ask for them. “So, Daniel,” Jack begins, trying to inject some levity into the situation, “I never figured you for a career change. How’s that working out for you?”

“I knew you’d be the one to come for us, Jack. You’re always the one they turn to, the prodigal son who returns only long enough to lure the stray sheep back to the fold.” Daniel smiles, continuing, “Well not this time.”

Jack sees Daniel press down on the trigger, a slow-motion movie brought to life. He has just enough time to remember just how much he hates being shot by a zat.

***

Jack wakes up to a blinding headache. Daniel’s long gone, but Jack expected nothing less. At least he’ll be able to report back that he honestly tried.

He sits up slowly, realizing that the rest of his men have found him and wishing that they’d keep their voices down.

“Are you okay, sir?” Diaz asks, appearing as if by magic at Jack’s side, looking no worse for the wear after having been knocked out as well. 

“Just peachy.” Apart from getting shot by his best friend and the harsh reminder that he’s not as young as he used to be, that is. He ignores Diaz’s outstretched hand, determined to get up under his own power, only to realize--as he starts to brace his hand on the ground--that there’s something clenched in his fist: three standard issued tracking devices.

Well, fuck.

***

_The Odyssey_ transports them off the planet. As far as the president and the joint chiefs are concerned, this mission is far from over.

Without the tracking devices to follow, they might as well be flying blind. Stargate teams are stationed on every known Lucian Alliance planet, and they report back what little news they hear: stories of destroyed vessels and cargo, actions aimed at weakening the Alliance’s power. _The Odyssey_ follows these leads, but they always arrive at the designations too late.

Days become weeks and weeks become months, and Jack is beginning to forget what Earth feels like beneath his feet. He starts to think that it’s a lost cause, that they’ve just spent the last six months wasting valuable time and resources. Jack tries to tell the IOA this, subtly suggesting that perhaps their energies would be better spent elsewhere, but they refuse to listen. Words like _treason_ and _planetary security_ are tossed around again, along with the veiled threat that Jack is not doing enough to find them and perhaps someone else would be better suited to lead _The Odyssey_ on its search.

Jack cuts off the radio transmission and returns to his quarters to page through the thick folders he has on Daniel, Vala, and Mitchell. He has been through their files dozens of times before, memorized the pertinent bits of information, and knows there’s nothing new these papers can tell him. But he still lingers over Daniel’s file, carefully studying the photograph taken in those early days: Daniel’s smiling and his eyes are eager despite the losses he has already experienced. He looks like the type of man who should spend his days pouring over books, not looting and destroying enemy ships. 

Jack can’t help but feel responsible for turning Daniel into such a prickly bastard and says as much to Diaz one night after he’s had a few too many beers. Diaz denies it, appalled that Jack could even think that he was to blame for Dr. Jackson’s duplicity. Jack lets himself be mollified, even though he knows that Diaz doesn’t know the whole story.

***

The president has declared that Dr. Daniel Jackson, Ms. Vala Mal Doran, and Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell should be shot on sight.

Jack knew this day had been coming, had awaited it with increasing dread.

He has always put his job first before, followed his painstakingly drawn map. Any good cartographer knows that reference points need to remain permanent. But Daniel tried to shift the topography, and now Jack doubts they’re even reading from the same key anymore.

Surprise, shock, _grief_ \--Jack knows that these are all emotions that must be buried. But sand moves too, and one never knows what will be unearthed next.

***

The memories still haunt Jack’s dreams:

Daniel was still hurting, and no amount of mind-control quips could cover that up. “There was no other choice,” Daniel said, and Jack agreed because it was easier that way.

The walls of Daniel’s apartment were bare, the majority of his possessions long since donated to museums or stored as classified at the SGC. “Saves me time on dusting,” Daniel had said at the time, but now Jack wonders what Daniel was really thinking when he became a minimalist. It’s easier to take off in the middle of the night if there’s not much left to pack.

“You should leave, Jack. Go back to Washington. I‘m okay, really.” Daniel’s words might have had more of an impact if they weren’t already slurred with sleep.

Jack waited until Daniel had succumbed to the sandman before he let himself climb into the bed, turning himself into a human spoon as he pulled Daniel close. I’ve missed this, Jack thought as he pressed a soft kiss onto the back of Daniel’s neck. He never let himself stop to think about what he’d be giving up when he became a general and stopped feeding his skin hunger. 

But now, light years from Earth in both space and time, those touches are all Jack can think about.

***

Mitchell is the one holding the gun on Jack this time. In Jack’s defense, he wouldn’t be in this position if his team had actually been able to watch his six instead of masquerading as easy targets. Even Daniel, back in those early days, would have at least managed to sound a warning or something. Though Jack was just as surprised as the rest of his team that SG-8 got some decent intel for a change, so maybe he’s being too hard on the kids.

The stacks of kasa--normally reduced to piles of smoldering ash by the time Jack arrives--are still burning as Mitchell gestures for Jack to keep moving. “Jackson wants to see you, sir,” he says.

Jack can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Seeing as how you’ll never serve in the United States Air Force again, feel free to call me Jack.”

Mitchell doesn’t even blink at Jack’s words, acting as if taking a general as a hostage doesn’t register on the scale of idiotic things one should never do. Though maybe, Jack contemplates, this is nothing more than an everyday occurrence here in bizarro-land. 

“How’d he convince you?” On some level, Jack gets Daniel and Vala--neither one is exactly known for following the rules--but Mitchell is the one piece Jack hasn’t been able to factor from this equation. 

“Jackson asked me to,“ Mitchell says, as if it’s as simple as all that. And maybe it is; after all, Jack’s also been to the Dr. Jackson School of Logic, and he knows what the curriculum entails. Rational thought does tend to flee the building when one’s faced with that blue-eyed scrutiny.

There’s a moment, right before they board the ship, where Mitchell appears distracted. A fraction of a second, really, but if Jack moves quickly, he just might be able to grab Mitchell’s weapon and make a run for it. But Jack wavers, and he has to ask himself whether his hesitation is due to lack of faith in his physical abilities trumping Mitchell’s or a curse of curiosity. He chooses the latter, though he doubts that either reason will be acceptable in a mission report.

Daniel’s waiting for them onboard, holding court beside the Al’kesh’s command console. “I thought you would have given up by now,” Daniel says in the same tone he used to use to talk about the commissary‘s meatloaf.

Jack shrugs, careful to keep his hands in plain sight. Mitchell’s still behind him and he spots Vala out of the corner of his eye. Jack has always appreciated that Daniel never underestimated him, though now he can’t help but feel a tad annoyed. “How about calling off your watchdogs?”

“Not just yet,” Daniel says, shaking his head. “There are a few items I want to discuss with you first.”

Just a few? There are probably about a billion and one things Jack wants to say to Daniel, starting with his betrayal and ending with a good throttle. “Why did you do it, Daniel?” Jack asks, wanting the first words because he’s not so sure Daniel will let him have the second.

“The Lucian Alliance was getting out of control. They--”

Jack interrupts. “Don’t give me that old song and dance about the Lucian Alliance. You knew we were monitoring them. We would have intervened if we felt that it was necessary. You knew that.”

“I wasn’t prepared to take that risk.” Daniel steps closer, a move that paces himself directly in front of Jack. Jack knows that Daniel’s lack of regard for his own well-being has to be driving Mitchell crazy just now. But Daniel appears oblivious as he continues, “I was afraid they would become the next Ori or Goa’uld, and I couldn’t let that happen.” 

Judge and jury. Jack always knew that Daniel had the tendency to be self-righteous, but this is extreme even for him. “So _what_? You’re trying to rid the universe of all evil? I’m not buying that.”

“They wanted to give me a _desk job_ ,” Daniel says, hands gesturing wildly as if he’s trying to get Jack to see the horror of the situation. 

Jack already knew Daniel that had become an adrenaline junkie; no one purposely risked their life that many times for any other reason. He had wanted Daniel safe, finally out of the direct line of fire, but he never suspected Daniel was that unhappy about it. “Why didn’t you say something to me?” 

“I tried,” he says, smiling ruefully. “You just didn’t want to hear it.”

Jack protests, but it seems that Daniel’s tired of their conversation--or maybe at this point there is really nothing left to say--and he asks Mitchell and Vala to escort Jack to a holding cell. Once he’s assured that Jack’s secure, Mitchell leaves, but Vala lingers for a moment. “Daniel really has missed you,” she says, but Jack doesn’t want the consolation prize.

***

Lines drawn in sand aren’t permanent; sand is too loose, too unpredictable to hold that type of division for long. Jack realized that when he first kissed Daniel during a sandstorm that cut them off from the rest of the team for two days. The grit of dirt melded into the kiss, adding a painful dimension of realism that Jack didn’t want to think about. Jack drew the lines that first night, amidst the buttons and buckles, and he kept them intact for as long as possible. Until that one afternoon when Daniel, still floating on a post-resurrection high, finished wiping them out.

But with a promotion looming on the horizon, Jack couldn’t give him more. At the time, Jack thought that what they had was good, good enough to take the edge off the ache.

Hindsight has proven him wrong.

***

Daniel comes to visit him in his cell, shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking uncertain now that it’s just the two of them and the walls are closing in. “I feel as though I should apologize,” Daniel says, extending an olive branch that after everything that’s happened, Jack would be foolish to take.

“Just to make things clear, which thing are you apologizing for exactly? Taking me hostage or your newfound interest in piracy?” Jack wants the specifics, because he’s not sure if Daniel’s answer won’t be ‘none of the above.’ There are a multitude of other things that have passed between them, still unspoken and unresolved.

“Both. Neither.” Daniel shakes his head. “I don’t know, Jack. What do you want me to say?”

“Because I thought, given our previous relationship--”

“A relationship?” Daniel actually has the audacity to look surprised at Jack’s words. “The occasional hand job and a dozen one night stands do not constitute a relationship. No, Jack. A relationship is one thing you and I never had.”

There was a reason why Jack always sent Daniel in to negotiate. People saw Daniel and never realized that even the most innocuous of roses had thorns until it was too late. But Jack let himself forget that, and now he’s the one who’s been left to bleed. Swallowing hard, he turns away from Daniel, needing the privacy to try to reconstruct the walls Daniel insisted on tearing down so long ago.

But it seems that Daniel can’t even leave him that. He places his hand on the back of Jack’s neck, his touch so light that Jack isn’t sure whether it’s Daniel’s palm he’s really feeling or the transfer of heat from his skin. Daniel’s voice is deceptively soft as he says, “We’re not the people we once were, Jack. Let‘s just leave it at that and let it go.”

If only it were that simple, Jack thinks as Daniel finally pulls away.

***

Jack remembers that night perfectly:

Daniel was smug. This was the second thing Jack noticed, because no one could have missed the naked-as-a-jaybird bit. Daniel had ascended---again--and damn it, his life was not some bargaining chip to be tossed about in the universe’s fucked up version of poker. Daniel laughed when Jack told him that as they drove to Jack’s house.

“I only did what had to be done,” Daniel said as they got out of the truck. “You would do the same thing if our positions were reversed.”

Maybe. But since it was always Daniel who was on the verge of shuffling off this mortal coil, Jack felt his complaints were more than justified; though he knew from bitter experience that banging his head against the wall would be more productive than rehashing this argument with Daniel. “You can have the spare bedroom,” Jack said as they walked into the living room.

“Wait,” Daniel said, smiling as he caught Jack’s arm before he could escape. “I do love you. Regardless of where I am, that will never change.”

Daniel--not waiting for a reaction--left to unload his bag in the guest bedroom, leaving Jack behind to do his best impersonation of a fish out of water. Standing there with an open mouth and a clenched fist, Jack knew that their carefully drawn lines had just been trampled on, and he wasn’t sure if he could reconstruct them on such shaky ground.

Two days later, when Jack received the phone call asking him if he wanted to come to Washington, it was almost a relief to say yes.

But now, sitting on the floor of a cold cell aboard a spaceship at the edge of the Milky Way, Jack can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had followed Daniel into that room.

***

Vala’s been watching him sleep, Jack realizes as he opens his eyes.

She smiles when she sees that he’s awake, sashaying her hips in what Jack guesses is supposed to be a suggestive manner as she places herself in his direct line of vision. “I must say,” she says, running her fingers up and down the cell bars, “that I understand what Daniel sees in you. You possess a certain charm that I find irresistible in a man.”

There was a time, prior to Jack learning that sex with an alien woman never led to any good and before the female population of the universe tried to turn Daniel into their personal toy, that Jack would have likely taken her up on her offer. “Not interested,” he says instead, shaking his head.

“Good,” Vala says with a big grin that never quite reaches her eyes. “If you were, then I’m afraid I’d have to kill you; to spare Daniel the inevitable heartache, of course.”

“He’s fortunate to have you looking out for his interests.” Even though Jack would rather she try to knock some sense into Daniel instead.

She straightens, abandoning the game to address him with a seriousness that would put a marine to shame. “I meant what I said before. I don’t want you hurting him again.”

Jack’s starting to see why Daniel vouched for her when Jack questioned the decision to make Vala an official member of SG-1. “That was never my plan,” he says, striving for reassurance even though he has yet to decide on his next move.

“Just remember that we’re his team now,” she says quietly as the door opens and the man in question walks in.

“I feel as though my ears should be ringing.” Daniel looks at Vala as he says this, the tense line of his shoulders hinting that maybe he’s a little concerned about just what she may have told Jack. “Mitchell needs your help with the control crystals,” he tells Vala, continuing to ignore Jack, and Jack is only slightly surprised that she doesn’t call Daniel on his obvious lie before exiting and leaving Jack and Daniel alone together.

Daniel’s tired, Jack thinks as he finally allows himself a moment to look deeper than he had last night. He has a long familiarity with Daniel’s ‘fueled by caffeine instead of sleep’ look; Jack suspects he would have an easier time picking Daniel’s eyes out of a line up than he would his own.

“Something’s come up,” Daniel says. “If I let you out of here, will you give me your word that you’ll behave?”

“You’re not worried that I’ll try to kill you?” 

“I’ll take my chances.” Daniel presses his palm against his forehead, probably trying to fight off a developing headache. “And if you had wanted to capture me, you would have done that when you first came onboard.”

Jack has gotten good at doing things he doesn’t want to do, and he thinks that Daniel should have at least considered the possibility that Jack would lie to get out of this cell. But he gives his word anyway, and Daniel unlocks the cell door.

Daniel hands him a power bar. “It’s not much, but I’m afraid we’re a little short on supplies at the moment.”

“Thanks.” Jack reaches to take it, his breath catching as their fingers brush. It’s difficult to fight the temptation to grab onto Daniel’s hand and demand that he come back with him. Jack pulls away first this time, shoving the power bar into his pocket as he says, “So this problem you’re having, is it anything I can help you with?”

“Not anymore than you already have,” Daniel says; Jack forgot that Daniel could have written the book on cryptic. Jack’s still not sure what Daniel’s talking about as he goes on, “We’ll be passing by another planet tomorrow. We’ll let you off there, if you want.”

“This is kind of high tech for a taxi service, don’t you think?” Because if they’re going to go to the trouble of kidnapping someone, then Jack would think that they’d at least try to find some use for him. Unless-- Daniel looks straight at him, and Jack could be imagining the pleading look in his eyes that’s asking him not to go there, but Jack doubts it. Besides, curiosity has yet to kill this cat. “You needed me here in order to carry out the rest of your plan.”

Daniel reaches out as if to touch Jack, but then pauses, as if he‘s not sure whether or not Jack will allow the contact. “We knew _The Odyssey_ would have a lock on your tracking device.”

Which means that Daniel wants to be followed. Jack grabs Daniel’s shoulders and looks him in the eyes so he’ll know if Daniel’s lying. “Daniel,” Jack says, using his best ‘listen to me or else’ tone of voice, “how about you tell me what’s really going on here.”

Jack has a feeling that if he wasn‘t holding on to Daniel that he’d try to bolt. But Daniel stays still, sighing as he says, “The Lucian Alliance has a fleet of ships nearby. They’re no match for _The Odyssey_ , but it won’t matter to them; they’ll fire first anyway.”

And _The Odyssey_ will have no choice but to return fire, thus destroying the last remaining Lucian Alliance threat. Checkmate. Jack can’t fault the tactics, but he can resent being made into a pawn. He doesn’t ask his next question: What’s to stop _The Odyssey_ from making you its next target? The answer flashes in his mind before the question has a chance to formulate on his lips.

“We’ve been in contact with the Asgard,” Daniel says quietly, as if he’s reading Jack’s mind.

Jack tightens his hold on Daniel’s shoulders in an effort to keep his hands from shaking. There’s just one flaw in the plan that he can’t ignore: the part where Jack never sees Daniel again. Never have the laughing, the bickering, the slide of skin against skin. That type of future is simply unacceptable.

Jack’s not sure who moves first--by this point they’re standing so close that it probably doesn’t even matter--but he does know that he’s sliding his tongue into Daniel’s mouth and that Daniel’s kissing him back. Maneuvering over to the bed would be easier if Jack wasn’t trying to shuck off his pants at the same time, but it’s nothing more than a minor inconvenience in the realm of things.

Jack was only fooling himself that all of these things--the jobs, the missions--weren’t really about Daniel all along. And now that Jack has him again, he doesn’t know how he’s been able to go so long without.

***

Another sandstorm is brewing on the horizon, and now Jack has to make a decision before it hits.

There’s a marked pathway leading back to Earth, and if Jack follows it, he knows how the story will end: He’ll finish putting in his time and retire back in Minnesota, ultimately dying a peaceful death all alone. Or Jack could rush headfirst into the storm and let it remake his whole world. If does this, if he decides to stay with Daniel, he doesn’t know what the future will hold. He does know that the SGC will catch up with them at some point, and ultimately, this won’t end well. 

But Jack is tired of trying to scrub the regret from his skin. He has always needed Daniel, and looking over at him now, sleeping trustingly by Jack’s side, he knows that this is one thing that will never change.

Tomorrow Jack will help the others lead _The Odyssey_ on a wild chase that will ultimately end with the detonation of their Al’kesh, hopefully fooling the SGC into thinking that the four of them have died. It should buy them enough time to disappear into the Ida Galaxy. 

And as Jack’s thumb maps the contours of Daniel’s hip, he has to wonder if the Asgard have sand on their planets or if they’ll find more solid ground. But it doesn’t matter, he thinks. After all, even the finest grains of sand can be packed into castles.


End file.
